


Storybrooke Gets a Little Stranger

by lostlilsnail



Series: Strange Happenings [1]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Adoption, Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-06
Updated: 2019-09-06
Packaged: 2020-10-05 01:57:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20481026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostlilsnail/pseuds/lostlilsnail
Summary: Somebody new is making their way to sleepy Storybrooke and preparations must be made.A lightly edited repost of an old FF.net story





	Storybrooke Gets a Little Stranger

Of course Henry, master of the art of blowing every and anything wildly out of proportion, takes the happy little task and turns it into a weeks long project.

Emma loves the kid. Really, she does. She's proven it with a magical curse-shattering kiss, in fact. But he brings new meaning to the term high maintenance. Regina, the one who bestowed him with that trait--the one who actually passed it down to him--is nothing compared to the little monster she created.

Maybe this is all Emma's fault though, because she should have never brought up her project to him in the first place. She should have called Ruby and tried to rope her into helping out first. Yeah. She should have went straight to the wolf after her failed attempt at guilt tripping David.

"I always wanted to lift furniture with my father. Never thought I'd have a chance though. You know, growing up an orphan and all. That was...unfortunate and...sad..."

"Not as sad as this."

She's never been great a guilt tripping.

Too late now. Instead of bothering Ruby, she had picked out Henry as her backup plan. A chance for some mother-son bonding over manual labor. That's the stuff Lifetime makes movies out of, right? Right.

And so she went to Henry, who had immediately declared that he wanted to redo _ his _room as well, and now it's a week and a half later and Emma is left with nothing but regret. Well, regret and a sore back.

She always knew Lifetime was stupid.

"Can't we just poof it all up with magic?" The kid grouses, cheeks red, brow crinkled and glistening with sweat. He's complaining like he isn't the only reason they're lugging furniture that's this heavy about.

"You," Emma grunts out as she gives the dresser another heave, "sound just like your mother."

She's got the heavy end as they trek up the stairs and she throws her weight behind the bulky wood while Henry tries to navigate.

Henry huffs and puffs and pants out, "Yeah, and everyone says she's the smart one."

Regina raised one hell of a fucking rude kid. Jesus. Right now Emma is the one doing _ him _a favor. Henry should be bowing down before her for her kindness and generosity.

"Some work, kid," she manages through a grimace as they finally maneuver themselves over the hurdle of the last step, "is work you gotta do with your own two hands."

"Magic comes out of your hands."

Fucking _ rude. _

Emma pretends not to hear him and they lower the dresser gently to the ground. She rests her elbows on top and leans her weight against it in an effort to catch her breath. Thirty hasn't been the kindest year of her life, physicality-wise.

Granny says she's much too young to start bellyaching about aches and pains and weary bones, but Emma insists it's not the year itself she's complaining about. It's all the dragons and witches and curses. They've aged her horribly.

Not to mention all the amnesia. That couldn't be good for brain activity.

She pats the wood beneath her and hums in thought, trying to work up the courage to get it the last few feet down the hall to Henry's room. The wood is smoothed, polished. Fancy, judging by how much it had cost. Emma doesn't really get it one way or the other. When they had taken the kid shopping Regina and Henry had thrown around words like 'rustic' and 'contemporary' and pretended that they genuinely meant something.

Emma had quickly been left behind by the pair as soon as she had voiced that she was fine with any old wooden box so long as it had moving drawers that they could put stuff in. She had wandered away to go check out the display beds and had enjoyed her afternoon immensely until she'd gotten in trouble with a sales associate.

She _ hadn't _ been jumping. Testing the springs while standing wasn't jumping. It was _ bouncing _at most.

Regina wasn't pleased. After that Emma was forced to go wait in the car for the rest of the trip, arms crossed, a pout on her lips. Two days later when Regina and Henry left town again to place an order for a new mattress, Emma hadn't been invited along.

"You can't do it, can you?" Henry's groan pulls Emma to the present.

"What?"

"Magic. You can't transport it into my room because you don't know how."

"I can do it." Emma scoffs. "I can do all the magic. There's no magic I _ can't _do."

Henry rolls his eyes and Emma thinks she should probably work a bit on discipline and respect. Dr. Phil says all of that stuff is Very Important when it comes to child rearing.

"Whatever. Can we just get this over with?"

"You know, some moms would be mad at their kids for talking to them like that." She sniffs and raises her chin because that's probably how Regina would stand while disciplining.

Emma's not really sure. Henry tends to be a perfect little angel while _ she's _ around. Regina barely has to raise her voice. It's all hugs and kisses and, "Of course, Mommy dearest, whatever you say."

Suck up.

"Some moms would ground you."

He wrinkles his nose. "Are _ you _ going to ground me?"

"Just reminding you I have the power."

"Right." He shakes his head and then braces his weight on the dresser. "So, we push?"

She shrugs. "I guess so."

They push.

** _Screeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeech_ **

They stop about a half foot away from the top of the stairs and both glare at the offending white lines now etched into Regina's immaculate hardwood.

Emma frowns. "That was a stupid idea, Henry. You probably feel really dumb right now."

He gives her shoulder a hard shove. That would never fly with Dr. Phil.

"So," he squats and runs his fingers over the grooves, "do you know the spell to fix _ that _?"

"I liked you better when you were ten. You didn't know how to be sarcastic." She sighs. "Come on, from the bottom."

Henry groans but complies and mirrors her movements when she stoops to get a grip on the furniture. It's far from fun, but it is much easier to make it the last couple of feet into Henry's room than it was traversing Regina's ridiculous staircase.

Emma follows Henry's direction on where to set the piece down and then she stands with her hands on her hips, surveying the rest of the otherwise unfurnished room. "Whelp, one down, five more to go."

Except then Regina comes home on her lunch break, takes one look at the sweaty and disheveled pair, and clucks her tongue in disapproval. With a wave of her hand, all of his new furniture is upstairs in Henry's room.

"I was trying to teach him the concept of hard work," Emma whines. "I want him to have a good ethic like me."

"You spend every day in the station eating Doritos."

"You think two bags in one hour is easy? They're _ family size, _Regina."

Which is the wrong thing to say because then Regina forces a salad down Emma's throat for lunch and it's got cucumbers and kale and other things that people pretend are food in it.

-

Henry can move the rest of his belongings in on his own once the heavy stuff is done, so Emma can at last get back to the actual _ original _project. She stands in the empty spare room, paintbrush in hand, and sets to work.

Once his comics are alphabetized by series and then ordered by number and his computer games are squared away and every poster is carefully tacked up, Henry joins her. He wears his old, too-small pajamas because he's a smart kid with a good head on his shoulders.

Emma wears her usual day clothes because she's an idiot.

Fifteen minutes in, everything is splattered with white paint.

Regina butts in and tries to take over when she gets home from work because apparently Emma is doing an unsatisfactory job.

"Look, see?" She stands before the five-inch patch of wall she's finished, tall and proud. "See how nice and neat that is?"

"Regina, it's primer," Emma grouses. "It's going to get covered up."

"A house's foundation gets covered and yet-"

"_ It's primer _."

"-if the integrity of the base is compromised then-"

She falters as Emma's brush drags across her cheek.

"The integrity of your face is compromised."

Henry gives her a high-five.

-

Regina is surprisingly frazzled and Emma watches as she makes about two dozen more cookies than is probably necessary and scrubs the downstairs bathroom not once, but three times.

Not at the same time, of course.

"You realize you have absolutely zero to worry about, right?" She asks while Regina's on her knees by the toilet, stretching for the hard-to-reach areas their guests won't even _ see _. "You've got a massive house. You've been mayor for, like, ever." She ticks her points off on her fingers as she makes them. "And you've already got a super well-adjusted kid as evidence of your ability."

"I'll say I'm well-adjusted." Henry pipes up from over her shoulder. "Do you guys ever think about what I've been through? Seriously. I should be _ so _messed up right now and I'm totally fine."

"Fine-ish," Emma amends with a scoff.

"Ailurophobia is a real thing," he snaps.

"Yeah," Emma growls, "and it cost me my first pet." She shakes her head. One day Henry is going to go to college. On that day, 108 Mifflin will be _ exploding _with cats. "The point is, we're good. Take a break. You're gonna wear yourself out before the suits even show up."

Regina sighs and stands and stretches her lower back until it pops. "I've just never had to do anything like this before," she admits, bottom lip pulled between her teeth.

"Well," Emma starts to soothe and then she falters, balks, "Wait, _ what _? What about Henry?"

"I picked him up." Regina cocks her head to the side. "Why?"

"They just _ gave _him to you? They never stopped by town? Didn't assess your home? Did they even do a background check?"

She frowns. "Gold just told me where to pick him up and then I did."

"In _ one _ day? Holy-" Emma splutters, "that was my _ kid. _What agency was that? Oh my god, Regina, we have to report them."

-

"Xena," Emma declares when all is said and done and they can finally just sprawl out in the living room and make a dent on all those cookies.

"No." Regina doesn't even hesitate.

"But she's going to be a warrior princess," Emma moans. She scoots forward in her chair. "I'm not saying I hate Emma, I'm just saying my parents _ really _ missed an opportunity."

"They didn't have television in the Enchanted Forest, Ma." Henry's upside down on the couch next to Regina, head on the cushions, legs over the backrest, comic in hand. At least the little weirdo saved it until _ after _the company left.

Emma slumps back into her seat, arms crossed. "That's no excuse."

"Television or no," Regina cuts in, stern, "Xena is off the table." She shakes her head with a growl. "No. It was never even _ on _the table. Ever."

"Fine," Emma shrugs, "Gabri-"

"_ No _."

"But that's a _ normal _ name. People wouldn't even know."

-

It all happens very fast.

Like, for thirty years she wasn't there and then, suddenly, in an instant, she _ is. _She's there and probably just about the smallest thing Emma has ever seen and then Regina is acting like it's one hundred percent okay to just dump her in Emma's arms.

Seriously? Does she know how much shit Emma has dropped in her life? She's pretty sure she's broken, like, eight plates since she's moved in.

And even if Emma doesn't drop this bundle that is no doubt the Tiniest Person in the World, there's still everything the comes after. Why on Earth had Emma thought this would be a good idea? Regina had made Henry. He was already a whole person before Emma had come along. There wasn't really a way to ruin him.

What the heck is wrong with Regina? She seriously thinks this _ isn't _going to end in disaster and tragedy?

"I changed my mind," Emma squeaks. "I don't want her." She stares at the other woman, wide-eyed and desperate. "I'm gonna fuck her up."

Regina rolls her eyes. "You're not goi-"

"I'm gonna do it," Emma insists. "I will. I'll ruin her. Take her back." She tries her best to stretch out her arms without jostling the infant too much. God, she doesn't want to be the monster that's the first one to make the baby cry. "Don't let me touch her. Divorce me."

"Emm-" Regina tries.

"I'm serious. Divorce me and run me out of town."

Regina's nose wrinkles. "We're not married."

"Un-True Love me then."

"Oh, for fuck's sake."

"Woah, Mom." Henry cheers from her side, delighted. Kid has no idea what filth comes outta his mother's mouth when he's not around. Ooh boy.

"Don't eavesdrop." It's Henry's fault, of course, because Regina is _ never _ to blame. Ever.

Emma's tried.

The boy frowns. "I've been standing here with you the whole time."

"Regina, take her," Emma whines, shifting on her feet in distress.

Regina reclaims the bundle with a huff. "I can't believe some of the most powerful magic in existence was at work for me for nearly thirty years and all I have to show for it is you."

"Yeah see," Emma chuckles, instantly calmer the moment her arms are empty, "you tried to take a shot at me but all you really did there was remind all of us how old you are."

She does her best not to heat with jealousy at Regina's ease. Like her arms had been shaped since birth for this moment. To hold this exact child.

"Wait," Henry tilts his head, "how old _ are _you, Mom? I never thought about it before."

Regina sniffs and shifts and tries to pretend like the baby is actually capable of doing anything to really grab her attention at this stage.

Emma beams and claps her hands together. "Let's do the math. This will be good practice for word problems at school." She nudges her son. "So, If Regina was in Storybrooke for twenty-eight years plus-"

"The years here don't count," Regina interrupts her calculations, "I was frozen."

Eyebrows raised, Emma places her hands on her hips. "They count."

"No they don't."

"They totally do." Emma turns on her son. Dr. Phil says to _ never _force your child to get involved in an argument between the parents but this one is Super Important and calls for drastic measures. "Here, Henry will be the deciding vote. Do the years of the curse count, kid?"

He looks between them for a time, brow furrowed, lips pursed. Henry hums and hahs until finally he turns on Regina. "What's for dessert tonight?"

Regina blinks. "I didn't have time to-"

"They count."

"Hah!" Emma shouts in triumph, and it's too loud judging by the way the baby in Regina's arms squirms and whimpers. Emma composes herself to a more acceptable volume under Regina's stern glare. Already lessons to learn, she supposes. "You're ancient."

"You didn't let me finish," Regina chides. She flashes Henry the biggest, warmest, remember-when-you-were-a-little-shit-and-denied-my-affection-don't-you-still-feel-bad-about-that smile Emma's _ ever _ seen. "I didn't have time to make anything _ yet _, but I'm sure I could whip something up."

Credit where credit is due, that's one smooth recovery.

Henry still looks dubious though so Regina throws in, "Something with lots of chocolate."

"The years here don't count," Henry declares.

And Regina preens with a smug grin while Emma laments, "Oh _come_ _on_."

Henry shrugs. "Are you really mad? I just got you chocolate"

Oh.

"You did," Emma whispers, awed, and a dopey grin stretches across her lips even as Regina rolls her eyes. "That's my boy."

She slaps him on the back and Henry steps up to Regina, leans over the baby. "As soon as you get your little legs working I'd make a run for it," He says. "They're both this weird _ all _ the time. Especially Emma."

She crosses her arms with a huff. "At least I'm not a super ancient, decrepit-"

Regina's glare is murderous_ . _

"_ -beautiful, _ angel sent from the heavens as a precious gift for all humankind." Now _ that's _a recovery. Emma shakes her head at the other woman. "You really need to let people finish speaking before you contemplate setting them on fire," she chastises with a wistful sigh.

"Also can we eat before anyone gets set on fire?" Henry gives them both a pointed look before shuffling out of the room.

"I suppose I need to go find out if we have any chocolate in this house." Regina steps up into Emma's space and Emma has no choice but to _ take _ and _ hold _ and _ have _and she's trying really hard right now to remember the last time she held something without dropping it.

Has she _ ever _?

Regina's eyes, dark and calm, catch hers.

"You're not gonna fuck her up," she says, clear and slow. "You'll get the hang of it."

Emma takes a deep breath. "I can _ try _not to, at least," she murmurs.

And Regina presses a kiss to her temple before whisking out of the room to go pull something together with--hopefully--lots of chocolate.

The things that woman will do to prove she's not one hundred. Geez.

-

Regina doesn't have faith in much. She's never been given much reason to. Emma has been an exception for quite some time though. In her, Regina's faith is whole and complete.

That's how she's so sure Emma will get the hang of it. Will relax. Will calm. Will trust herself and her instincts. Will allow herself this experience without being smothered by doubt.

It takes the better part of six days but, like always--_always, Emma-_-Regina is proven right.

Regina creeps up the stairs after washing the dishes and lingers in the hall by the open door of the new nursery. She listens as Emma 'gets the hang of it' and smiles, even if she doesn't quite approve of the choice in bedtime story. Just this once though, she'll let it go...

"-and that was _ after _ your mother totally just punched me in the face. Like she really wound back and just went for it. But even after that I _ still _ hauled her butt out of that fire. Why? Because I'm a saint. I'm the motherflippin' savior is what I am. I mean, also she was pretty hot and I was like _ damn_, what a waste. But don't tell her I said that because it will go straight to her head. Her ego is already almost too big for the house as it is and we gotta live here too, you know? There won't be room for all five of us. You, me, Henry, Mommy, the ego, we all gotta find a way to coexist, you get me?" Emma chuckles. "Of course you do. Tiny high-five, Xena."

"_NO_."


End file.
